You Fool Everybody
by jhguygtrdedgv
Summary: So Marco came out ot his dad. That's great and all, but Tim still doesn't have a place to stay. What will happen to the two boys once Tim moves in? This story is about a homosexual relationship between two boys, aka SLASH. Spoilers if you haven't seen 509
1. To Put Chicks in the Mood

**Title: **You Fool Everybody**  
Pairing: **Marco/Tim**  
Chapter: **1_. To Put Chicks in the Mood_

**Summary: **So Marco came out to his dad. That's great and all, but Tim still doesn't have a place to stay…**  
Comments (if any): **Uh, not really. No spoilers, this takes place directly after 509 – Tell It To My Heart

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Marco nodded again as he listened to his papa walk away and lock the door behind him. His mother was right, one day he would understand, but that didn't make this any less shard to swallow. Marco's mouth was dry and his tongue felt twice his size and his throat constricted painfully. That was easily the worst thing he'd ever had to do in his life, and now he was supposed to go on like nothing had changed.

Leaning on the back of the kitchen chair, he trusted his mama would have a talk with his dad for him. Mrs. Del Rossi, always the mediator. It still felt weird, being in a fight with his dad. They never used to argue before, unless of course, it was over Marco's profession after school or something silly like that. Not like this. Of course it could have been worse. His father could have…

"Oh my gosh, Tim!" Marco exclaimed instantly, remembering that the younger student was in a much worse situation than he. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, Marco dialed his number.

"Marco, are you sure that's a good idea?" His mother asked in that Concerned Mother voice. "You're father's very sensitive right now and now that he knows…"

Marco looked up sternly at his mother and shook his head. "No, Ma, you heard him. He has no where else to go, and I won't have him wandering around the streets like-" Suddenly he heard a voice on the other line and it took him a moment to register if it really were the boy he was trying to reach. Placing his left hand over his other ear, Marco walked to the living room to hear better. "Tim?"

He sighed with relief when he heard a response. "I'm sorry I didn't get to talk to you after the- oh," he paused for Tim to answer, and then looked down half ashamed. "Yeah, thanks. But I should have done it a long time ago." Upon hearing nothing but silence on the other end, Marco realized there wasn't much for Tim to say to that, it was true.

Shaking his head he continued, "Anyway, Tim. Where are you?" He started to pace to and fro on the carpet, growing increasingly worried. "Right, stay there. I'm coming to pick you up… No, you're staying here. Don't… no, don't worry about him. It's too dangerous to be out there by yourself. I won't let you get… hurt." Marco said, thinking of a time when he was in the wrong place when he shouldn't have been. God, that seemed like so long ago.

Snapping his phone shut, Marco grabbed his jacket and keys. "Ma, I'll be back soon," he said, kissing her quickly on the cheek.

"Be careful, Marco," she replied in the same Concerned Mother voice, but he was out the door before she finished.

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Frustrated, Marco flipped off the radio and focused all of his attention on the road. No matter how gay he was, there was a time and place for Britney Spears. This was not one of those times, and he doubted even he, Marco Del Rossi, former Class President and cheeriest kid in school could stand her over-peppy synth-pop vocals right now. Trying to keep his eyes on the sidewalks without crashing the car, Marco looked for Tim. Dammit, why did all of his clothes have to be so dark?

Finally, he signaled left and turned onto DeGrassi Street, where Tim was standing not far away, leaning against a street lamp and eyes trained on the pavement in front of him. The orange glow of the light washed over him and normally, that would be very unflattering on anyone else. However, as Marco pulled over, he vaguely thought it gave Tim a sort of melancholy ambience. If you liked that whole… Dark, Mysterious thing.

As Tim looked up, Marco managed a weak smile and Tim returned it just as enthusiastically, walking toward the passenger door. After sitting and buckling his seatbelt, Tim looked down at the floor of the vehicle. "You… you don't have to do this, you know," he said, glancing over at Marco, who'd yet to move the car.

Realizing he was staring, just a little, Marco cleared his throat and turned away, putting the car in drive. "Yes I do, Tim. Like I said, it's way too dangerous out there," he said, k-turning like a pro.

"But what about-"

"I said, don't worry about him," Marco said, glancing over, just for a moment. "My mom and I got it covered, okay? It's not a problem," he asserted, more to convince himself than the boy sitting beside him. It would be all right. His dad would get over it, eventually. He had to, right?

For a few minutes, they sat in silence. It felt far too long, Marco's house wasn't exactly that far from the school. However, as they sat in that car time seemed to stretch out forever and ever and Marco couldn't help but wonder if that would be such a bad thing. They'd never have to face anyone or worry about anything ever again. Just the two of them, with no worries.

After a moment, Tim made a soft noise and Marco looked over at him. "What?"

Tim spoke a little louder, but not much. "I asked if I could turn on the radio?" he asked timidly.

"Oh," Marco nodded, of course. "Sure, put on whatever you want." A blush rose to his cheeks when he realized what he'd left on just minutes before.

Tim skipped past Britney without thinking twice about it and finally landed on some punk station. After a moment or two, Marco found himself smiling and nodding his head in time to the high-energy music. He looked over at Tim who looked more relaxed and smiled back at him. Before long the song changed, and Marco paused, listening for a while and subconsciously slowing down the car.

_It burns a hole through everyone that feels it…_

For some reason, he thought that this would be a good song to just chill out and breathe to. It sounded like some hardcore band that took a time off from screaming to say something sweet. Closing his eyes for a bit, Tim looked over at him, a little worried. "Marco?"

_I should have done something, but I've done it enough…_

Glancing at Tim questioningly, he asked, "What's this song?"

Hands twitching nervously in his lap, Tim bit his lip, "Blue and Yellow."

_By the way your hands were shaking, rather waste some time with you…_

"Oh," Marco nodded and listened to the lyrics, smirking wryly to himself. They seemed incredibly apt at the time, and this was exactly why Marco believed in fate.

Turning into the driveway, Marco put the car in park and turned off the lights. Not being able to find anything to say to Tim, he smiled softly, causing Tim to blush and smile back, before climbing out of the driver's seat and walking up to the front door. Resting his hand on the handle, he waited for Tim to catch up and paused. Standing there under the flood light, the tension between the two boys was nearly audible, but neither of them knew what to do about it. Standing silently for another minute, Marco finally leaned in just the slightest bit and said, "Listen. It's going to be okay. I promise," before opening the door and walking inside.

Tim nodded because what choice did he have but believe him? Marco was his Yoda, after all.


	2. It's Like a Failure

Tim closed the door behind him as Marco led the way inside the house. In the kitchen, Tim nodded politely to Mrs. Del Rossi who had waited patiently at the table to return home. He still felt incredibly guilty for causing such a commotion in her home last night and this morning. Having been so caught up in his own chaotic feelings, he'd forgotten how selfless and generous she'd been. Of course, now it was too completely awkward for him to apologize. Maybe he could make it up to her by helping out, washing dishes or yard work or something. Shifting uncomfortably, he restlessly played with the Velcro on the strap of his bookbag. Mrs. Del Rossi smiled warmly at them both before wishing them a good night and retiring to bed.

Marco shrugged off his jacket and set the car keys on the counter before leading Tim out of the room. Their living room was kind of a mess at the moment with templates for Mr. Del Rossi's printing supplies, or whatever they were. Glancing at them, Marco felt a surge of anger. Join him in the family business indeed. At times, Marco felt that no matter what he did, it just wasn't good enough for his father. And yet, what teenager didn't feel that way at least once? Taking a few more steps, Marco paused when he realized Tim was no longer following him and looked over his shoulder.

Tim had lifted his backpack over his head and set it on the carpet next to the sofa, he was now sitting on, hugging his knees to his chest. Marco couldn't help but chuckle to see him sitting there, looking so… emo. Shaking his head, he looked over at Tim and asked, "What are you doing?"

Looking up at Marco incredulously, Tim frowned. Glancing behind him out of habit, he searched for an answer. "Uh... what do you mean?"

Marco walked over with a small smile and picked up Tim's bag with the intention of carrying it to his room. "There's no way I'm making you spend the night in here," Marco said definitively, "It's a mess, and kind of creepy," he said honestly, trying to joke. Tim just blinked at him and shrugged, starting to follow him and not knowing where he was supposed to sleep if not the living room. As if reading his mind, Marco answered the question. "You can sleep in my bed."

Tim stopped in his tracks and did a double take. As Marco turned around quickly, realizing what he'd said, Tim raised an eyebrow, somewhat alarmed. Nevermind the fact that his heart started beating twice its normal pace. Tim half wondered that if Marco mean what Tim knew he didn't, if he would be able to refuse.

"I mean, by yourself!" Marco clarified quickly. "You can have my bed and I'll sleep somewhere else. I have a sleeping bag, I'll be fine," he nodded fervently, more to reassure himself that his guest.

However, Tim shook his head. After all Marco's done for him, even if he'd originally been lied to, he couldn't let Marco do that. "No, it's okay. I can't kick you out of your room," he insisted.

Sighing with exasperation, Marco countered, "You won't be. I'm offering and I'm sure you need the rest." Still, it seemed Tim could be just as stubborn as he was, and he wouldn't budge. "Fine," Marco said finally. "We'll both sleep on the floor; I'll get sleeping bags from the other room." Clearly that had to be a guilt-free solution for both of them, but Tim still looked uncomfortable and Marco looked at him, slightly confused. "What?"

"It's just…" Tim started nervously, "I don't think your dad'll be so into us sleeping in the same room." He knew his own father would have flipped out if he a friend had a little sleepover in his room, and that was before he even knew Tim was gay. Just being able to stay here was a blessing, and he didn't want to do or even agree to anything that might mess that up. Especially if it meant making Mr. Del Rossi angry.

Marco looked down and closed his eyes for a moment before looking back up at Tim sadly. "Look, I said don't worry about it, alright? You're not going to have to be scared of i anything /i while you're in this house, okay?" Marco understood that he was scared. It was those same fears that forced Marco into hiding, first from his friends, then from his father. However, as far as he could tell there was no where to go but up from here, right?

Tim smiled that cute little smile he had a habit of smiling and nodded. It was nice to feel… safe. For the first time in years.

Jumping up to reach the top of the closet, Marco pulled down two giant sleeping bags that hadn't been used since a disastrous camping trip a few years back. Tim failed to suppress a small bit of laughter, finding the situation a little bit funny; he could've reached to get the bags down if Marco had asked. Marco simply turned around to look at him with that What's So Funny? face, but he couldn't help allowing a small smile himself. Okay, so he was little. He still had a few years to grow, right? Of course. He was sure a growth-spurt was somewhere on its way, even at seventeen, he hadn't given up hope.

Handing the blue one to Tim and setting down the tan one for himself, both boys started to untie and unroll them. It was only awkward for a minute or two before Marco thought of how they were going to work out a changing situation and had a revelation. Blinking, he looked up and said, "You don't have any pajamas."

Tim bit his lip. "No… I don't. It's okay, I'll just sleep in my clothes," he offered. He really didn't want to be an inconvenience and risk being kicked out again. Anything would be better than going back home.

Marco shook his head and pulled out an extra t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants he thought might be long enough. "Mm-mm," he uttered in a not-committal noise of disapproval. "You're my guest. We're doing this right, this time," he stated firmly, but kindly. How could he make Tim understand that he was wanted when his own family didn't seem to want him? "But…"

Tim looked at him, alarmed. But what?

"We're going to have to go to your house tomorrow to get your clothes, and you probably want some stuff…"

Tim didn't know whether to be glad that this meant he was staying, or upset that it meant returning home. He completely froze for a moment and his back stiffened. "No, I told you," he answered, shaking his head fervently, "I can't go back there, Marco. I can't."

"Look, Tim," Marco continued, "As easy as it would make deciding what to wear in the morning, you can't keep wearing the same clothes every day." Tim blinked slowly and looked down, knowing he was right. But going home meant facing- "Hey, I'll go with you, okay? And if you want we can bring Craig... and Paige… whoever, all ri-"

"No," Tim interrupted. "We're going while he's at work. I can sneak in and be out and he'll never have to know. Ever."

Sitting back, Marco was slightly disappointed, though who was he to give Tim this sort of advice? It had backfired on him once, so maybe Tim really did know what was best for him. That would work for now, as long as Tim had whatever he needed. "Okay," he relented. "You can go and change in the bathroom," he said, pointing the way.

As Tim left the room, Marco quickly undressed and put his own bedclothes on. It was true that when Marco first decided to help Simpson with the skit, it was because he might have had a tiny crush on 'the new kid.' Since then, he'd screwed the whole thing up, though, and what would become of it now? He couldn't very well come on to the boy while he was having such a hard time and living in his house, for God's sake. Tim needed a mentor now, not a boyfriend, Marco reminded himself. Climbing into his sleeping bag, he was nearly asleep when Tim walked in.

Sadly, he wondered if Marco would ever see him as something more than a whiny, needy kid.

That night, they slept on the floor on adjacent sides of the bed, with their heads meeting at the corner and Tim's hat thrown carelessly onto Marco's dresser.


	3. It's Scary Out There

**Thank you to everyone who have reviewed, you have no idea how much that means! Well... you probably do, but it's still very appreciated. Thank you! Hope you like this chapter. )**

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**Marco woke first, he had always been an early riser and Tim had a lot of stress to sleep though. Yawning and rubbing his eyes like a toddler, Marco turned over to see Tim burrowed under the covers of his sleeping bag as a groundhog would or something. Marco smiled at the ridiculous analogy, but as he watched the other boy sleep, he couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling that Tim slept like he was hiding from something. Someone maybe. Turning over to lie on his stomach, Marco folded his hands over his pillow and rested him chin on top of them. He was probably only inches away from Tim's head, but Marco couldn't bring himself to wake him up. 

Instead, he thought about how they were going to get into Tim's house- well, former house, and retrieve his things. He couldn't help realizing that he had no idea when Tim's dad went to work or when he'd be back. Luckily, it was Saturday so that gave them tons of leeway. Glancing at the clock on his desk, he checked the time; 9:30 AM. The smell of his mother cooking breakfast in the kitchen was already wafting through the door, making him smile. This was pretty much a perfect moment. Just before reality started and nothing in the world could touch them. Wriggling out of his own sleeping bag, Marco grabbed some clothes and headed to the bathroom for a shower.

The water that ran over his skin was just hot enough that if he twisted the knob one more smidgen, it would probably burn him, and that's just the way he liked it. The one time he and Dylan had showered together, they'd fought over the temperature the whole time. Shampooing his hair, Marco shook his head and smirked at the thought, that jerk. Rinsing and drying off, Marco stepped out of the shower and dressed and brushed his teeth. Finally, he toweled most of the water out of his hair and scrunched gel into it, turning the natural waves into curls. Returning to his room, Marco smiled to see Tim still asleep. Stepping over his sleeping bag, still strewn across the floor, Marco kneeled next to his friend and gently shook him awake.

Not fully awake, Tim sighed and turned over. The, remembering where he was, he sat up and looked at Marco, blushing slightly. Marco chuckled and said, "Shower's free. I can give you a shirt, but I don't think I have any jeans that'll fit you." He paused to think about this for a moment. Tim wasn't all that tall, only a few inches taller than Marco himself, plus he was pretty skinny. His mother would fix that soon enough. "But you know, you could probably fit into my shorts, though. They're super long on me, so they'll be fine on you." Before Tim could answer, Marco turned to his dresser fishing out a pair of black shorts and a shirt he thought Tim might like.

Reluctantly, he took the clothes, Tim knew there was no arguing with Marco. Glancing down Tim said, "I still never got to say thank you… for everything. So… thanks."

"No, I should be the one thanking i you /i right now," Marco said sincerely. "And having a cute guy in the house? So not a problem," he mentally slapped himself as soon as he said it, but Tim just smiled shyly.

"I guess I better get that shower, huh?"

Marco nodded, "Yeah, food's going to get cold, so… yeah."

So shower Tim did, with the water just under scalding so that his skin was slightly reddened when he got out, but he liked it that way. Besides, the only time he could only think of one thing. So Marco thought he was cute?

Breakfast was pretty quiet. Neither of them had much to say, and besides, Tim was busy eating as though he hadn't had a decent meal in days. Marco suspected that he hadn't, which made him too sad to do more than pick at the meal. When Tim noticed that he wasn't eating, he paused with the fork in his hand, "Is, um... something wrong?" he asked with concern, and Marco thought it was sweet that Tim would be concerned about him when the younger boy had so much more to be worried about.

"Nah, it's okay, eat," Marco said with a smile, "If you're not well fed, I'll never hear the end of it from Ma." It was the truth, no one left Mrs. Del Rossi's table until they'd gained at least three pounds. "But," his voiced dropped to a secretive whisper, "you better hurry up because we need to be on time for the mission."

Tim couldn't help but laugh, "Secret mission?"

Marco looked at him, mock offended, "Yeah," he said as though it were obvious, "Operation: Get Tim's Stuff, remember?"

As soon as it had appeared, the smile was gone from Tim's face, and he looked at his watch. It was ten-thirty, just enough time for them to get there and out before his dad's lunch break. "I don't know about this Marco…" he started, but the young host would have nothing of it.

"What kind of attitude is that for an agent? Unless you change your thinking right now, I just might have to assign someone else and you wouldn't want-"

"Okay, okay," Tim said with a smile, not exactly knowing what to think. As they got up to leave, Tim insisted on washing his own plate, despite Marco's assurance that he didn't have to. A few minutes later they were out the door and walking toward Tim's house, which was only a few blocks away.

When they arrived, Tim went around to the back of the house and stood by the window that must have been to his room. Marco followed him and watched and he stood on a patio chair to open the window. After a minute or two, Marco heard Tim hiss out a breath and say, "Shit," in a slightly panicked and morose voice.

"What? What's wrong?" he asked, getting more and more worried by the second.

Tim stood there frozen, almost paralyzed. "It's locked. He locked the window to my room," he answered in disbelief and looked over at Marco. "I never, ever keep this locked."

Marco sighed with exasperation. It killed him to think a father went to so much trouble to keep his son out. "What about the kitchen?" He asked, as a last resort, not wanting to give up now just because he wanted some sort of victory over Tim's dad.

Tim shrugged and dragged the chair over to the kitchen window. Struggling with the latched for a moment, Tim smiled when Marco stage whispered, "Use the force!" After a few minutes, he managed to pry it open and couldn't help grinning at the achievement. Waving Marco over, he deftly climbed through the rather narrow space and landed precariously on the sink so that his foot was dangerously to the garbage disposal and his hand was leaning on the ledge very close to the switch. Shifting carefully, he hopped down and helped Marco through. Making sure no one was in the house, he motioned Marco down the hall and to his room.

Of course, they couldn't do this without being silly and sneaking there as they thought James Bond would, humming Mission Impossible music along the way. As they reached his room Tim laughed, but Marco looked at him as though that weren't proper secret agent behavior. Shaking his head, Tim opened the door, flipped on the light switch, and gasped. Looking over Tim's shoulder, Marco had very much the same reaction, mixed with an appalling disgust for Tim's father.

His room was a mess. All the posters had been ripped from the wall; several rockstars' faces had been torn right in half. The sheets that should have been on his bed were carelessly strewn across the floor, and countless possessions along with them. "Tim… I-"

"No, it's okay," Tim interrupted him, not wanting Marco to say anything, "I… expected this," he said more to convince himself than Marco, because the older of the two wasn't too sure. It hadn't sounded like Tim had been expecting this if that gasp was anything to go by, but Marco didn't know what to say in this type of situation. "Let's just get stuff and go, okay?" Marco couldn't do anything but nod.

Tim grabbed a big duffel bag from the top of his closet and started stuffing clothes in it. Marco looked around for other things Tim might want. Toothbrush, iPod, headphones, CDs, books, what looked like a sketchpad he knew better than to open. Of course, it wasn't long before he tripped over the sheets though, and flew headfirst onto the ground. Tim looked over at him tangled up in the cloth and couldn't help but laugh. Marco semi-glared at him, "Oh, you think that's funny, do you?" He picked up the pillow nearest to him and directed it right toward Tim's head.

Of course, Tim had to throw it back after it had hit him, and it continued until they were both in a full on pillow fight. When they were both tired, they dissolved into a fit of laughter until something caught Marco's eye. It was a photograph of a woman and she had Tim's eyes so he was pretty sure he knew who she was, but he asked anyway, "Who's this?"

Taking a look at the photo for a moment, Tim shrugged and answered casually, "My mom. She-" But he stopped suddenly, and Marco heard it, too. The sound of a car pulling into the drive way. Tim froze until he heard the driver's side door slam and he grabbed the bag, zippering it as fast as he could while Marco rushed to the window, unlocking it and throwing it open. They pushed the duffel out first before they both scrambled through the window, just as they heard a key turning in the lock of the front door. Landing hard on the back lawn, both boys started to make a run for it when Tim's father was certain he'd heard a noise coming from the direction of Tim's room and went to investigate.

Scared out of his mind, Tim didn't stop running until they were far out of sight of his house and any trace of his father. Leaning against a tree to catch his breath, Marco looked at Tim and then they both couldn't help but laugh. Some adventure. It suddenly seemed like the sort of thing people wrote stories about, not the sort of thing that actually happened. Before long they were hugging again, but only for a moment before the two of them realized what they were doing and let go quickly.

Blinking at each other a few times, they started to lean together, just the slightest, but it was oh so slow, and neither of them knew which turned away first. Both disappointed, but otherwise far too relieved, they continued the walk to the Del Rossi's slower and taking as much time as they needed and in the most comfortable silence either of them had ever experienced.

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**I promise there will be kissing in the next chapter! I swear! I hope you like it!**


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